


if you really loved me you would share him

by Slumber



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Both the Miya twins are when it comes to Hinata, Consensual Cucking, Established AtsuHina, Exhibitionism, M/M, Osamu is just along for the ride, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sharing, Voyeurism, no incest sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25796455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slumber/pseuds/Slumber
Summary: "Oh, sorry, do I have the wrong Miya?" he asks, smile beatific."Well ya got the better one, but I'm afraid yer usual is the one over there," Osamu tells him, the two of them grinning like they're sharing an inside joke, and Atsumu thinks, of course he'd wanted his boyfriend to get along with his brother, but did they have to get alongthismuch?"Sometimes it's hard to tell, you know," Hinata says, too blithely to be believed.Hinata knows which twin he's got. He plays with both of them anyway. (Or: Atsumu watches OsaHina fuck.)
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Osamu
Comments: 46
Kudos: 490





	if you really loved me you would share him

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags, mind the summary. It is as it says on the tin. ♥

It's a joke they have, some days, when Atsumu's feeling playful and Hinata's having one of his spazzier moments, too consumed with perfecting a new attack or trying something out he forgets to stay on the right side of the road ("Ya ain't in Brazil anymore, Shouyou-kun, watch out!") or how to open doors ("This one's expectin' a push, no sensors, ya'll be waitin' there forever."). 

Hinata's attractive enough as he is, but he gets a specific kind of cute when he gets that way, mouth in a little pout and brows scrunching up his gorgeous face, and a flush that spreads along tanned skin, from the back of his neck to the tips of his ears. 

Atsumu's only human. 

"Keep it up, Shouyou-kun, and ya might forget which twin yer lookin' at again," he'd tease. "Had a hard enough time of it in high school, didn't ya?"

"Atsumu-san!" Hinata would protest, one of the few times Atsumu can see him flustered like this.

So when he sees the opportunity, well. He's gotta seize it while he can, right?

Because eventually, Hinata teases back.

"Oh hello Atsumu-san," Hinata says, going up to Osamu, with his black cap and black hair and Onigiri Miya apron, wearing the smile he wears for Atsumu's benefit only. Palm cupping the nape of Osamu's neck, pulling him down like he's about to lean in for a kiss. 

The corner of his lips curls up in a twitch. His gaze turns, slight and sharp, to lock onto Atsumu's.

"Ya little shit," Atsumu huffs, and mid-lean, Osamu lets out a snort, his grin too smug, one eyebrow raised the tiniest of bits so only Atsumu can tell. 

And maybe Hinata now, too.

"Oh, sorry, do I have the wrong Miya?" he asks, smile beatific. 

"Well ya got the better one, but I'm afraid yer usual is the one over there," Osamu tells him, the two of them grinning like they're sharing an inside joke, and Atsumu thinks, of course he'd wanted his boyfriend to get along with his brother, but did they have to get along _this_ much? 

"Sometimes it's hard to tell, you know," Hinata says, too blithely to be believed.

Hinata can tell.

Atsumu knows Hinata can tell.

The problem is — Hinata can tell a little too much.

It's Hinata's idea, in the end — as everything usually is — but it's not like Atsumu doesn't agree.

And it's not like Osamu complains.

He doesn't ask if it's okay, holding Shouyou like that: wide palms sliding down his sides, catching at his hips, thumb slipping beneath the thin hem of his shirt to brush against skin warmed by summer heat and dancing and cheap beer. Doesn't ask if it's okay to press his lips to the curve of Shouyou's neck, to suck a bruise just beneath his ear where Shouyou told Atsumu once he was ticklish, to nip at the perfect shell of Shouyou's freckled ear.

He doesn't ask. But it's okay.

Shouyou leans back against Osamu's chest like it's a bed made for lounging, his shoulders broad but Osamu's much broader, and when he reaches back to play with the ends of Osamu's hair it's an echo of how he must look when he plays with Atsumu's, sometimes. He half-turns, tilting his head back just enough to tug Osamu down for a sloppy, lazy kiss, the cut of his jaw illuminated in moonlight but the glimmer of it that's caught in his gaze is directed at Atsumu alone.

Osamu's grip on his hips falters. _Is this okay?_ Atsumu reads in the flex of fingers against shirt, the way his thumb hovers, then hooks, uncertain, against the belt loop on Shouyou's pants.

Shouyou hums, and he's still looking at Atsumu with keen, sharp eyes when he murmurs, "You know, 'Tsumu doesn't usually ask, either," before closing thick, calloused fingers around Osamu's wrist and pushing it down where he'd like it. "But that's just 'cause he gets greedy."

"I got manners, what can I say," Osamu chuckles into Shouyou's neck, fingers deft as he unzips Shouyou's pants and slides them eagerly down toned thighs like he's unwrapping a goddamn present.

"His shirt," Atsumu says. Osamu cocks an eyebrow, a prompt for clarification, like the bastard doesn't already know what he means. "Take it off, too."

"Told you he gets greedy," Shouyou says with a giggle, like Atsumu's not the one sharing.

"You can't—" Shouyou warns him later, the sternness in his voice lost in the tremors of a gasp, Osamu sinking three fingers deep in him. "Not yet."

"I wasn't gonna," Atsumu lies through gritted teeth, shifting in his seat for all the good that does. The front of his boxers is embarrassingly damp and he's digging half-moons into the fleshy mounds of his palms, but he promised he wouldn't, and Shouyou can't be the only one keeping his promises.

"Okay good," Shouyou breathes, eyes suddenly squeezing shut and hips bucking at something Osamu does, the pitch of his voice rising to a whine. His entire body is flushed a rosy red, blazing so close to wrecked even as Osamu holds him down, holds him up for viewing. When Shouyou opens his eyes again it's to seek Atsumu's gaze, and despite the hour they are limned in the soft glow of evening light, bright and eager. 

"You like his hands too?" Atsumu asks, licking his lips when Shouyou bites down on his.

"What, yer gonna tell him ten fingers is better than three?" Osamu quips, the curl of his smile languid and haughty, relaxed, if Atsumu ignores the part of his lips, the fervent gaze he keeps on Shouyou, pupils blown wide, or the careful, near-reverent way he palms Shouyou's bare skin like he's still marveling at how he got there.

Shouyou has that effect on people.

But it's Atsumu's gaze Shouyou's holding like a lifeline, the hazel in his eyes sparkling with amusement. _He doesn't know, does he?_ his barely-there smile is asking. 

"'Tsumu knows how many fingers is best," Shouyou says, and Osamu misses the Cheshire-cat grin of a secret playing on Shouyou's lips, misses the way Atsumu aches, suddenly, for Shouyou inside him. 

He lets out a shaky, shuddering breath, shifts once more in place. It doesn't help, not with Shouyou watching with keen interest. He can tell, even now. Especially now. 

_Please_ , Atsumu wants to say.

"I think he's ready for you, 'Samu," he rasps out instead.

Atsumu's not sure how long he's supposed to last, watching Shouyou sink down on Osamu's cock knowing exactly what kind of show he's putting. His own breathing's gone shallow, his boxers painfully tight, the blood pulsing through his veins razing a fiery heat that's got pinpricks of sweat beading in the back of his neck, the arch of his brow. 

Shouyou hasn't stopped looking at him, his eyes blazing with an intensity that makes Atsumu want to reach out, to touch, to _take_. 

" _Fuck,_ " Osamu hisses, his breathing sounding strained, forehead pressed to Shouyou's shoulder, fingers digging into his hips hard enough Atsumu knows he'll be able to tell where he'd be sucking bruises over them later.

Osamu's not allowed to touch, either. 

It's Shouyou who sets the pace, who keeps a loose hold around Osamu's wrist, who keeps Osamu's hands waist-high, who moves excruciatingly slow as he takes him in, again, and again, and again.

They'd done something sort of like this before, at one of the hotels during one of the weekend games, where instead of a TV the bed had faced a mirror. It was Shouyou behind Atsumu then, but he'd set the pace too, whispered filthier things in Atsumu's ear than Osamu can dredge up in his fucked out stupor now. 

Atsumu had whined after, back then, that it was a shame he'd covered his own view of Shouyou.

"'Tsumu," Shouyou murmurs, snapping Atsumu's attention back to the arch of his hips, the muscles cording tight on his thighs, the way he's straining, red and strident and untouched. "Something on your mind?"

Atsumu's mouth waters. " _Shouyou,_ " he pleads, broken and desperate. "I need to—"

"Soon, 'Tsumu," Shouyou promises, and something in the pitch of his voice breaks, too, going high and needy as he grinds himself down on Osamu, cheeks flushed and eyes wild. "Just a little m—Osamu-san, you can— _now_ —"

Atsumu stumbles onto his knees later, when Shouyou says it's okay, long, slender setter's fingers closing carefully around the base of his dick, lips wrapping eagerly around its tip. 

Shouyou cards his fingers through Atsumu's hair later, his voice a low and soothing murmur, fingertips gentle on the apple of his cheeks, the curve of his chin, the corner of his lips. 

"'Tsumu, are you touching yourself?" Shouyou asks later, a permission and a reminder, because Atsumu had forgotten, and he moans around Shouyou's cock when he finally, finally does. 

Later, much later, when Osamu's snoring, spent and collapsed on his back and Shouyou's half-asleep, curled up against Atsumu next to him, he'll murmur something too low to hear.

"Wh'sat?" Atsumu will ask, and expect no reply.

"I said," Shouyou sighs. It sounds like a purr. "Even better with your mouth."

It turns into a game they play, some days.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the first horny plot bunny I've had in two years. Thanks to the folks who encouraged me to run with this idea. ♥ Y'all are the real MVPs.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcome! If you liked what you've read, you can [share the link on Twitter.](https://twitter.com/slumberish/status/1292307438520147968) I've also written a handful of [tamer Haikyuu!! fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slumber/works?fandom_id=758208).


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